Destiel Au: Dean's kidnapped & held hostage with Cas
by finedininganddestiel
Summary: Supernatural AU: Dean is kidnapped by the yellow eyed demon and thrown into his prison to rot. When he wakes he meets Castiel, another prisoner and survivor of yellow eyes entrapment.


"When was the last time you saw the sky little angel?" The voice rushed over his skin making him feel like he was bathing in toxic waste. His warm breath on his neck. His hands roaming over his body. Cas woke with a start. He was sweating. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, pushing the nightmare away. Except it wasn't a nightmare when it was him remembering what had happened last night. What happened every night. He looked up at the stars. The only stars he ever remembered anymore. A giant star on the ceiling with a fan blowing above it. How ironic is it that a pentagram on the ceiling had become his only savior. He remembered a snippet of a poem his sister used to recite to him when he was younger, "Twas noontide of summer, And midtime of night, And stars, in their orbits, shone pale, through the light" he recited to himself before letting out a heavy sigh tinged with deeper meaning. He thought about his sister, Anna. He was forgetting her face, her voice. The only thing that he really saw was that red hair. But that was enough. Sometimes he would say those poems Anna would say to him, and just for a moment he was home. He would see the light that glowed with a power that made the stars Anna so often talked about look dim. But just like the sun, these memories of light would slowly fade to shadows and he would remember he was still in the same place he always was. He sighed and turned on his stomach glancing warily around the room. He was on his makeshift bed in the darkest part of the room; almost hoping that every night he would come in and he wouldn't be able to see him hiding there, shivering. The man with the yellow eyes. The dark corner was his cocoon from the world. He kept quiet, he'd be quiet so long he wasnt sure he would even know how to speak anymore. He knew better than all the newcomers, not to make a fuss. For a while yellow eyes liked it, the yelling, screaming and crying. But after a while it got old pretty fast. Yellow eyes newest find was already gone, taken away late last night. All he did was scream and shout. Cas had told him to be quiet. He had pushed himself up as far into the wall as he could, he knew what was coming. All of a sudden there was silence, and it was as if the world have been devoid of all noise. The door creaked open, sending his heart into a steady thump of beats like the rushing of tides. He covered his ears. And squeezed his eyes shut. And he counted to ten. He waited till the noise stopped. He knew better than to look at what was left. He heard the dragging. The slam of the door. He took a deep breath and looked. The newest member of the garrison was gone. The shivering stopped racking his body and the feeling of that voice and those lips on his body drifted off. He was freezing. It must be autumn or winter by now. Cas could always tell by the temperature shift in the room. He checked the floor for his blanket, a beat up, dirty old trench coat. The only thing left from his life. He pulled it and wrapped it around his torso. He never had a shirt. The man with the yellow eyes liked to be able to see what he had done to Cas. Cas didn't leave his shadow, just reached down and pulled his blanket up and wrapped it around him. He didn't want to see his body after last night. He had burn marks on his wrists and feet. He heard door slamming in the distance. A new kind of chill came over him when he realized it was yellow eyes, back so soon. He pushed himself as far as he could into the shadow and prayed, like every day, for his death. The door opened with a creak and a bang and a thump. Footsteps coming his way, "Please, please god not again, not so soon" he thought, the lump in his throat tightening. The footsteps stopped just short of the line of shadow that kept Cas hidden. He could feel those yellow eyes digging into him, admiring the work he had left on Cas's body from the night before. He turned silently and left the room, lock sliding in place at his leave. He turned onto his side and his breath left his body in one sudden leap of despair. Blonde messy hair, and disheveled clothes, with fine, long eyelashes. He was beautiful, and he knew that at once that he would do whatever it took to save him from this place. Save just one. This one. His eyes opened and met his. Green. Their eyes locked. The warmth that spread through his body was unknown to him, a feeling he had never experienced, pushing him to the brink of falling and catching him at the same time. He knew in that moment that he laid eyes on him that he was last. And Cas knew then it was never going to be the same. He finally understood what could make a faithless man pray.

The first thing he ever saw that ever really mattered was him, his eyes bringing him forward and collapsing over him like a tsunami wave. That was all he could see. The rest was hidden in shadow, "It's okay. He's gone now.", The voice rang with self-despair that seemed to take up the space of the entire room. "Jesus, that was some party last night" Dean said, in a breathy voice, trying to sound convincingly cool and lighthearted but coming out anything but. The man's eyes crinkled and they looked like they hadn't crinkled like that since beyond the beginning of time. His attraction to him made Dean self conscious and he looked away. He'd always found it better to pretend ignorance was bliss when it came to guys. John Winchester was a lot of things and homophobe was one of them. He remembered the night his dad had caught him out kissing the boy from the motel desk. His dad had come home stumbling drunk from a hunt he had been gone on for at least a week. He went to the room first where a frightened Sammy lied and said Dean was out getting food for them. His Dad automatically knew the first place to look for him. Like he always knew what Dean was, what he felt. The way his lip had curled in drunken disgust when he found them out back in the Impala. He remembered the beating he got from it, the sound of Sammy screaming in the background. Staring at him while he got the beating of a lifetime. He knew how Sammy felt about that night. How useless he felt. He remembered Sammy trying to lift him, tears streaming down his face. He was saying soothing words in his ears while the boy from the motel had run off to get a towel and a first aid kit. How his Dad had just walked away after, like Dean wasn't even worth his time, like he was one of the scum they hunted. Even with their Dad being dead he was still afraid, could still feel the feeling of that belt hitting his back, leaving him breathless and pleading for air. It made his chest hurt to remember. He tried to stand and started to fall. Quicker than expected the man darted forward and grabbed him. Holding his shoulder with one hand, it almost burned the sensation between them. He wrapped his other arm around his torso. "Easy there. We don't want you to end up with a worse concussion than the one you've probably already been given." He scooped Dean up in his arms like he weighed almost nothing and placed him gently down on a bed. Made of feathers? His hand brushed Dean's face before quickly pulling away. He broke eye contact with Dean almost like he was afraid of staring at him too long, like he was mirage that would disappear once you blinked. He walked forward out of the shadow. Dean gasped an intake of air without meaning. The man stood in the light for the first time. His back was to dean. Brown messy hair, the man was running his hands through it with one hand. His back was covered in scars. It looked like someone had poorly tried to cut out wings onto his back with a box cutter. They were ragged and rough going up and down his whole back. Some looked like they had been reopened multiple times, some look like they were as recent as the last twenty-four hours. He tried to stop his eyes from widening. The man's shoulders stiffened when he heard Dean's reaction. He turned around quickly, eyes downcast. "It's not as bad as it looks, and it was a long time ago. And at least afterwards he gave me those down feathers for bedding. His idea of some sort of joke I assume" A weak smile. "Dont worry you have to do something especially remarkable to end up with marks like these. And you have to be a coward to end up surviving here this long" He stared down at his feet rubbing his five o clock shadow thoughtfully. He was wearing old tattered jeans, covered in blood and dust, bare feet peeking out from the stretched out cuffs. "Who are you?" Dean whispered, "Im Castiel, And I'm here to save you".


End file.
